Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Russia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Pierre Henry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
H. Thieme,
Mandrill,
Wings,
Dorothy Ashby,
U.S. Maple,
E-Dancer,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pantaleimon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultra Naté,
A Certain Ratio,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rekid,
Popol Vuh,
Swans,
10cc,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Motions,
Bill Wells,
Jacques Brel,
Schoolly D,
Banda Bassotti,
Slick Rick,
Spandau Ballet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scratch Acid,
EPMD,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Copeland,
June of 44,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pierre Henry,
JFA,
Thompson Twins,
Davy DMX,
Flipper,
Crispy Ambulance,
Erykah Badu,
Mad Mike,
Al Stewart,
Terry Callier,
Maurizio,
Hoover,
Rosa Yemen,
the Human League,
Khruangbin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Toni Rubio,
Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Names,
Depeche Mode,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.